What Dragons Do When They're Jealous
by ambivia
Summary: Last year, Princess Lucy sat on the sidelines again as her childhood friends fought for honour and glory in the annual Flora Tournament. Now, finally, she has the chance to prove her own worth, and she's going all out — yes, even against the fiery mage she used to know so well. But as darker forces come into play, the past turns out not to be so buried after all... —au, natsu/lucy.


_*notes at the end._

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><p><strong>{ what dragons do when they're jealous — one }<strong>

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x

_The Kingdom of Fiore has long been governed by the family of Heartfilia. The monarchy preserves peace and maintains balance; its mysterious ties with the fearsome dragons that dominate the land alongside its bond to the magical power that is embedded in the heart of Fiore have done well to keep the country prosperous and happy._

_There are rumours that the agreement between the dragons and Heartfilias is more than a simple alliance. Legends tell of the rise and fall of the strongest of these creatures, Dragon Lords, who gave up their power for humanity, and began to walk the earth as men. Children of Fiore are sent to sleep with stories of how the great draconic magic of past kings and queen helped create the nation they know today, and with assurances that as long as Fiore's much-loved royals remain, the safety of the country is assured._

_But these are just myths — old wives' tales — and even in a land where dragons are common, there are few who still believe in the ancient Dragon Lords and their transformations._

_Nevertheless, in honour of the mighty creatures and the noble legends surrounding them, a festival is held in Fiore every summer. Many participate to enjoy the merriment of the occasion, but the annual Flora Tournament attracts knights, mages and fighters of all shapes and sizes in particular— all to determine the strongest warriors of Fiore._

_The royal family organises all of this in the hope that their citizens remain peaceful, happy and prosperous. The great House of Heartfilia holds much love for the country it governs, and stops at nothing to fulfil its duty to its nation._

_Life in Fiore is good. The royal family, with the help of the dragons, are dedicated to keeping it that way._

**.**

**{ x }**

**.**

Jude shivers lightly as he takes in the grand sight before him. Above the ornate golden throne rests an emblem of two dragons dancing around a gilded shield with the mark of Fiore on its curved face. Or perhaps it's one dragon with two heads; the serpentine twists are entwined too deeply for him to discern one from the other.

The mark of the Heartfilia family.

His new home. His new kingdom.

"Darling?" He starts and turns around to face Layla with wide eyes. Her raised eyebrows lower as she adopts a fond expression at his troubled frown. "Don't be afraid," she assures him, laying a soft hand on his cheek — he leans into it habitually. "They protect us, and guide us. The dragons of Heartfilia and the wild that roam Fiore are one and the same. As long as they're here, we're safe." She pauses when he doesn't respond. Taking his hand, she lays it across her stomach. "Jude. We're _safe_."

"I know the stories." He breathes deeply and nods, closing his eyes. "As strong a fighter as you are, you aren't _immortal_, Layla. We should be more careful."

She gently laughs under her breath. "You shouldn't believe all you hear, darling."

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x

"Well?"

The doctor takes a moment to examine the seam of his hat before giving a small bow. "I'm sorry, sire. There's nothing I can do."

Jude narrows his eyes. "That's not good enough."

"I understand, your Highness. But in all my experience, I've never come across anything like it. It's like her body is just... _giving_ _up_."

"Layla would never give up," the blonde man growls.

The doctor backtracks rapidly, his anxious gaze meeting the king's. "Yes, Sire. Of course." He pauses, fiddles a bit with the hat again, before gazing at Jude squarely in the eye. "I would recommend a honey potion every day, twice a day. It's been known to cure the unknown. Also, perhaps you could look into a less conventional means of recovery. I'm sure she—"

"You think I haven't done that!?" Jude turns his back to the medicinal professor abruptly, running a hand through his dark golden hair. "We've tried the mages, the scientists, the doctors, the healers, the madmen — everything! What else _is_ there? What choice do I have _left_!?" A terse silence follows. The king sighs and turns back to the man. "I apologise. The Queen's illness takes a toll on us all. Thank you for your time."

The doctor nods and turns to leave. Just when he's at the door, he turns back as he places his hat back on his head. "Sire?"

Jude glances at the man. "Yes?"

"Perhaps you could try the dragons?" The doctor gives another shallow bow, bids the king good day, and leaves.

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x

_The only thing that could be worse losing Layla_, Jude reasons with himself, _would be losing Lucy_.

"Daddy! Daddy, look!" He glances down from the shallow first floor balcony. His seven year old daughter looks up at him, garden flowers threaded into her short honey-blonde hair. She giggles and holds something up in her palm; it's too small for him to see clearly.

"What have you got there?" he calls down to her, a smile playing on his lips at the sound of her laughter.

"A dragon!" she crows excitedly, extending her arm. Joy dances in her round brown eyes. "Natsu and Papa Igneel found it!"

"Darling? What's she saying now?"

Jude turns to his wife. She's sitting up in her bed, weak but happy. She gives him a sweet smile and he tries to reciprocate convincingly. "A dragon, apparently. I think it's a caterpillar?"

Layla laughs; it's a clear sound, something her sickness didn't — _couldn't_ — take away. "Is that so? Would you tell her Mama would love to see it?"

Jude is about to convey the message when he pauses at the balcony. "You should tell her yourself," he murmurs, his back to her.

Looking down, he notices that Lucy's run off again. Further into their huge garden, he spies two little heads—one pink, one golden — bowed together over something held out in a tall flame-haired man's hand. What exactly Igneel is showing his son and the princess, Jude doesn't know.

A little way are the other children: Erza and Gray lounge lazily on the grass, both preferring to laze in the summer sun over playing with their noisier friends; with them lay two sleeping white-haired girls; a third snow-haired child sits beside his sisters and draws in the dry dirt with a stick while around him runs a dark-haired boy — Gajeel — chasing a squealing Levy.

Grandine sits in a chair in the shade of a tree nearby, rocking a bundle in her lap gently. A tuft of dark blue hair is barely visible through the cocoon of blankets in her arms.

Jude can't help the nostaligic smile on his face at the sight of the carefree youth of his ex-guild. Time may be unstoppable, and people may move on, pass away, but children will always be children. He takes comfort in the small continuity that Fairy Tail offers, and sends up a silent prayer for his daughter. _Let her stay happy._

"Alright. Help me out of this bed." Layla's soft voice surprises him. His worried gaze locks with her determined one, and he slowly nods.

"Perhaps a trip around the garden would be good for you."

She just gives him a sweet, simple smile.

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x

Jude watches in silence as the pink-haired boy scrambles across the low wall. He clasps three hand-picked flowers from the palace grounds to his chest, looking around for Lucy. The king watches quietly through the window as Natsu runs to the small lone figure at the far end of the Heartfilia Gardens.

He slows down as he approaches her. She doesn't notice the boy, her back to him as she stares, motionless, at her mother's grave. Natsu hesitates before tapping her lightly on the shoulder. She turns around, catches sight of the limp garden flowers clenched in his hand, and bursts into tears.

Jude watches from the balcony as the eight year old hugs the sobbing little girl to his body, and feels his heart clench painfully.

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x

"You look so much like your mother."

His daughter glances up at him and smiles Layla's smile — kind, simple, accepting... _forgiving_. "I remember her so clearly, Daddy. I'll never forget her."

"I couldn't if I wanted to." He shakes his head in disbelief and mumbles, "So it's almost a year already..."

Lucy recognises the forlorn tone in his voice and immediately takes his large hand in her tiny ones. She gives him a determined look as if reprimanding him for his sorrow. _Just like Layla_.

Jude's heart breaks in the sweetest way.

His daughter comforts him with a hug, her small arms barely wrapping around his frame. Eight year old Lucy is not as carefree as she used to be, but she _is_ still happy. Igneel, Grandine, Fairy Tail, and her friends especially are to thank for that. And in turn, she is entirely to thank for the king's somewhat steady state of mind. Without Lucy... Well, he doesn't allow himself to think of it. She is his lifeline. She is Layla's legacy.

Jude finds himself smiling as her honey-gold hair soaks up his tears.

**.**

**{ x }**

**.**

"Knock, knock."

Jude takes a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, and resumes glowering at the mahogany table in front of him — more accurately, at the innocent pile of thick paper that lays on it. "What is it, Igneel?" he grumbles, closing his eyes and leaning back in the leather chair.

The fiery-haired man, tall and built, comes forward from the door and swings the chair facing the king around, straddling it as he sits down. His mysterious eyes find Jude's; unlike a human, the eyes of a dragon in a human form are without pupils—the circles of colour are unnerving at first sight, and at this moment in time, Igneel's unblinking gaze glows red like a burning flame. "Rough day?"

Jude snorts into the neck of the bottle, and takes a deep gulp. The liquid burns his throat. "You could say that."

"Where's Lucy?"

"Your son took her to Fairy Tail."

Igneel nods at the news. "Probably thought she'd deal with it better there."

"Smart kid. How old is he?"

"Ten this year."

"Of course, he's a year older than Lucy. I forget."

"Yes."

A comfortable but pregnant silence grows between the two best friends as Jude continues to drink and scrutinise the paperwork he's to approve of, and Igneel watches carefully with his unnerving eyes. After a moment, the blonde man mumbles, "What do you want?"

"I don't want anything."

"Does Grandine need something?"

"If she did, she'd come herself."

Jude sighs, irritated. "Then what do you _want_?"

With a deep breath, Igneel rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward conspiratorially. "We have a problem."

The blonde man lets out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, my wife's been dead for two years today. That's a problem if ever there was one."

Igneel doesn't blink. "Jude, stop it. Pay attention." His usually carefree tone is grave, and he grimaces. "You know my family," he says, referring to the dragon colonies he once belonged to, "have become sparse in the last few years. Well, I've heard recently that they've finally... _disappeared_. The colony to the east has retreated to the mountains, we think, and they won't return. No-one knows why, and I know my family — if they don't want to be found, they won't be."

"W-what?" The news comes as a shock to Jude. "_Why_?"

"Don't know. It's not hard to guess, though." He pierces the king with an unreadable expression. "Perhaps Acnologia..."

The name hands in the air like smoke. The king's thoughts flash to the night where Layla confessed the darker secrets of the Heartfilia bloodline, days before her death. _Lucy_... "No," Jude dismisses the thought immediately. "No, it can't be, that's impossible."

"Improbable, perhaps," Igneel acquiesces. He fixes his friend with a stare. "But not impossible."

"No!" Jude laughs nervously, placing the bottle of liquor back on the table with unsteady hands. "Layla's been dead for two years, Acno—... _it_ has nothing to do with the Heartfilias anymore. Hell, the creature left Fiore after her death, Igneel! You said so yourself."

"I know, but don't forget that there's always Lucy—"

"Don't you dare say it," Jude growls over him. "Lucy is _fine_."

"You can't just keep avoiding the issue—"

"There isn't an issue _to_ avoid." Jude suddenly grabs the gilded pen from his table with gusto. "Please leave me now, I have duties I need to fulfil. Your son is probably waiting at the guild. You should go."

Igneel's expression hardens as the king begins to sign the documents, not even skim-reading what he's putting his name to. After another heavy silence, the red-haired man murmurs, "I know, and I plan to."

Jude freezes, his pen hovering an inch from the paper. He was hoping Igneel would have dropped it, but when has the man ever been that easy? "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not." He watches as his old friend tiredly rubs a hand across his face, ghosting across his chin. "Humans aren't able to find them, Jude. We _need_ to see what's going on."

"Then I'll send someone else. _You_ can't possibly go, Igneel. It's far too dangerous." He scribbles a signature with unnecessary force to hide his frustration. This is an argument they've been over time and time again, and it's one of the few things the two men have never been able to agree on, no matter how much time passes.

"I'll take Grandine with me," Igneel insists. "We need to go back."

"Are you crazy!?" Abandoning all pretence of looking busy, Jude turns his full attention to his friend. "You've already _made_ the change, you can't turn back into a dragon unless you—"

"I'm well aware of the price of transformation," the flame-haired man hisses. "It's not something one could forget that easily."

"That's why I can't understand what's going through your mind!" He rubs a hand across his face. "And the transformation aside, Igneel, keep in mind that it's not just you we're talking about anymore. When you became human, granted, you left the dragons, but it's not like you had a _home_ with them to leave behind. It's different now. You have a _son_. Grandine has Wendy. You can't just _abandon_ them for some far-fetched hunch that—"

"We won't be abandoning them," Igneel murmurs, cutting him off.

"_What_? So you plan on taking those children with you!? Are you mad!? They'll be ripped to shreds!"

"No, of course not!" Igneel sounds aghast, his eyes widening. "What, do you think I'm crazy? I wouldn't take Natsu to the dragons on pain of death, you know that! They're already hostile enough to those like _me_. Just to think what they would do to halflings like my son..." He trails off grimly, looking at a loss for words.

Jude understands. Layla told him enough. "Does he even know yet?"

Igneel shakes his head silently.

"And when do you plan on telling him?" Jude goes for the bottle of whiskey again, but his friend beats him to it and puts the bottle on the floor out of reach.

"I don't," he says simply.

The blonde-haired man gives a blank stare. "You can't be serious." The glare his friend levels at him has the king expanding. "It's never that easy, Igneel. It's one thing to talk about grand adventures with the dragons, but to even think about leaving your son clueless, _defenceless_ — this isn't like you."

"Grandine said the same, at the beginning," Igneel says quietly. "But... If our suspicions are correct — if Acnologia... this is a risk we have to take. The consequences otherwise would be too dire to comprehend."

Jude feels like he's looking at his friend through new eyes, like he's talking to a stranger. To imagine their positions swapped, the very _thought_ of putting Lucy in danger like that... "You would leave your son."

"I would leave him," Igneel says, looking Jude straight in the eye, "in your care."

This throws Jude off. "M-My care?"

"You're the King of Fiore. Who better to raise a pair of dragon halflings?" His face settles into a more sombre expression, his eyes holding a sudden sorrow. "You musn't tell them. They must never know, Judge, you understand that?"

He doesn't, and he says just that. "And I never said I would do it in the first place — I never agreed to any of this!"

"I would trust no-one else with the job. Grandine agrees with me, so you can't really say no. You know how she gets when she doesn't get her way." He chuckles lightly.

"You're leaving your children for naught, you stupid _stupid_ man," Jude hisses, clearly not finding the situation funny. "You'll sacrifice your family, your humanity, the life you've built, and for what? Nothing but a hunch! This is cowardly, Igneel. This is _crazy_."

Igneel narrows his eyes in barely concealed anger. "A hunch? That's what you'd call this, a hunch!? Lucy's having the same nightmares Layla had, don't try to deny it. The dragon numbers have steadily declined since her death, which in itself is questionable. And you still don't know what was wrong with her, do you?"

"Don't go there, Igneel—"

"Reports on wayward magic from all around Fiore. The issue with the corruption of the magic council. The rumours of Zeref's resurrection — all the clues point to the same answer!"

"I'm warning you now—"

"Jude, wake up! Wake up before it's too damn late!" The flame-haired man stands, visibly shaking in his fury. "Acnologia has returned, and you _know_ what that means."

Jude holds his breath, looking up at his old friend with guarded eyes.

"We _need_ to investigate this, before it's too late. Or do you want Lucy to have to go through all that? Is that what you want, to lose your daughter just like you lost your wife?"

"You bastard," the king hisses in a weak voice. Igneel takes no notice.

"Grandine and I are here to protect the Heartfilia family. That's why we made the change in the first place." His gaze turns imploring. "Accept the facts, my friend. I understand that you want to protect your family — I understand more than you know, trust me. But it is time to take action."

The blonde man stands up from his chair slowly, his breath catching slightly in his throat. "What would you have me do? Send my best friend to his death?"

Igneel snorts. "You underestimate me."

"You overestimate yourself."

The tension in the room diffuses, and both men retake their seats. Jude looks around the room, refusing to meet Igneel's eyes; his eyes lands on the window. _It's raining_. "You have ten years. After that, I'm using the Twin Gem to bring you back, willing or not."

Igneel throws Jude a cocky smile. "I don't need nearly that long. Give me five."

The king narrows his eyes; why is he friends with such a carefree fool? "Eight."

"Seven."

"_Eight_."

"Fine," the dragon chuckles. "Eight years it is. If by that time, this Acnologia business isn't solved, I give you my word that I'll return to the Heartfilias, empty handed and all." He grimaces. "That would be embarrassing, though. Natsu wouldn't forgive me for that."

"So don't do it."

"I won't. I promise."

Jude lets out a weary sigh, the conversation having sapped him of any strength the whiskey gave him. "Will you at least stay long enough for the tournament?"

Igneel's gaze catches Jude's, and he grins. "Wouldn't miss it. Gotta keep my title of best fire mage, don't I?"

Jude chuckles despite himself. "It's hardly fair."

Igneel shrugs. "Dragons don't play by human rules." Jude laughs, and can't help but agree.

The men spend the rest of the night making peaceful conversation. It's not until Igneel bids the king goodnight that the topic of the dragons' upcoming departure is raised again. He pauses with his hand on the door handle, his back to his old friend. "Jude."

The blonde man settles his gaze on the flame-coloured hair. "What is it?"

Igneel turns around, his expression grave. "You'd better take good care of Natsu." He pauses, looking like he wants to say something more, but thinks better of it and leaves the room.

Jude grimaces, his eyes glued to the table. "You'd better come back soon to see it for yourself."

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**{ tbc }**

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><p><strong>notes:<strong> _goodybe angstville, goodbye random depressing lyrics, goodbye insecure monologues!_ I found this in an old writing folder, and fell in love because MAGIC and ADVENTURE and everything I adored about ft in the first place. So yeah. I'm loving this.  
><strong>notes2:<strong> multichap, multipairings. I'll update as often as I can, promise.


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